SIXTY-THREE
Gigi
Since the team discovered Paolo’s whereabouts, Harry and I have been staying at a hotel in West London near his last-seen location. Unlike last time, we have separate rooms for this heist.
With each passing day, my body aches to rejoice in the distance I’ve put between myself and the Circle headquarters, but all attempts are futile. To be brutally honest, I feel … different.
While that sluggish-type energy has disappeared and I have more energy to push against that harsh voice in my mind, I waver every time. But I don’t have time to think too deeply about it. I have a role to fulfil.
Some things haven’t changed. I have my own plans for Paolo Ricci. But Richard has asked us to leave him alone. We’re under strict instruction to infiltrate a party he’s hosting in the city at one of those properties with wrought iron gates, pillars lining the front door, Ferraris and Lamborghinis out front, and burly doormen guarding the entrance.
Our job is simple: take the hard drive from his office, get the information back to the Circle, and discover what dirt he’s uncovered.
Someone knocks at the door of my hotel room, and I get to my feet.
I open the door. “Oh … hey.”
Harry looks up from fixing his cufflinks to his sleeves and welcomes himself inside. His suit is perfectly pressed, and he wears a handkerchief the same colour as my ballgown. Wine-red.
His eyes crease. If I had to put money on it, I’d say he thought my distance from home would elate my emotions. Whatever that means.
His face falls in slight disappointment. “What? No snarky comments?”
I don’t have it in me to muster up a response, so I simply turn my back to him. Even putting on the dramatic jewellery feels robotic. But I do it anyway, knowing I have a part to play.
After a moment I finally turn back to him.
His voice is soft, desperation wrapping around the words. “Come on. Play with me.”
I’ll entertain him. If that’s what he wants.
Slipping on that eerie Cheshire cat smile, I make my steps towards him slow and torturous. Harry’s muscles tense as I step around his body, brushing my fingertips over the backs of his shoulders.
“You look dashing.”
He swats away my hand as if it’s an irritating gnat, but the attempt is weak.
“Ouch,” I sneer.
He adjusts his Rolex . “What’s the time to intercept?”
“Well … it’ll take us about twenty minutes to get there. And then we’ll have about four minutes between Whizz Tech Dan infiltrating the system and the lock tripping. But that’s always been a bit optimistic for you, so I’m thinking of a quickie for the first three. I’ll suck your dick to finish you off. And then—”
Finally , he gives me a little bit of attention. Harry backs me into the wall behind us and brings the tip of his dagger to my throat within a matter of seconds.
His lips quirk in a half-smile. “There she is.”
With a smile as if he truly missed me, which I find hard to believe, Harry tightens the grip of his knife in warning, but it packs little bite .
He steps back and wipes the blade against his thigh before pocketing the knife in the waistband of his trousers. The blade must have nicked at my skin, but I barely felt it. I touch the slit on my neck, smudging the few drops of blood between my fingers.
“I’m surprised your blood isn’t black. That’s what happens to those without a soul, right?”
I smile, but the motion doesn’t quite reach my eyes. Harry watches my every movement, then he asks quietly, “Is everything okay?”
He’s asking me if I’m okay? Even after I selfishly did one of the most unthinkable things imaginable by almost kissing his best friend.
I nod, not trusting my words.
He checks his earpiece is working. “Shall we?”
I slip my arm into his and straighten my shoulders. “Ready.”
Hundreds of elites fill the marble floors – from the billiard room to the ballroom, the bar, and so on. The sounds of voices, clinking glasses, and lingering piano music echo throughout the halls, while glass chandeliers decorate the ceilings, projecting light onto the priceless artwork.
Being back on the field pulses energy through me, and I feel infinitely more alive than I did just a few hours ago. These are the moments I live for within the Circle. Being able to play the role of this harsh, inhuman character is like a security blanket, able to protect me from whatever feelings try to break through. Yet for the first time in a while the effort feels weary.
My eyes scan the crowd for our suspect. He isn’t in our immediate vicinity, but I won’t let my guard down. We have four minutes after Dan unlocks the door to find the hard drive and then get the hell out of here before the lock trips.
“Are you ready, Dan?” Harry mumbles into his earpiece.
Time to focus.
Reciting the floor plan from memory, I picture the blueprints as if they’re directly in front of me. I imagine my fingers sliding over the scrolls of paper, just like they did this morning. The grand staircase is in front of us, meaning we’re in the west wing.
I nod to the hallway parallel to us. “Down that hall. Third door on the right.”
As we walk, a waitress steps in front of us, holding a tray of bubbling liquid in flutes. “Champagne?” She grins. “There are plenty of other options in the billiard room.”
Fuck, we’re wasting time. Think!
“Thank you, but I can’t,” I say, hovering my hand over my stomach. “Not for another six months. We’re so excited – aren’t we, sweetie? Our own baby boy. Just like Daddy.” I grin lovingly up at Harry.
His composure doesn’t crack.
Not one bit.
Unease in her eyes, the waitress scurries off.
Harry mutters, “Are you ever serious?”
And we’re quickly back to the toxicity we thrive in.
I’m better, more protected, with this version of myself.
After checking our surroundings, we walk down the empty hallway, keeping a watchful eye out for any lingering witnesses to our rebellion. Thankfully, Dan has already tripped the lock, so we rush inside before anyone spots us.
“No one saw us,” I say.
“Don’t let that fool you. We don’t have long.”
Harry and I part ways in the small square room to cover as much ground as possible. With each passing second I feel my pulse racing harder.
Where would you find a hard drive?
Computer is too obvious.
But you’d want it somewhere within close reach …
As Harry tears apart the desk drawers I make my way to the bookcase, scrutinising the spines until I find one significantly different from the rest.
One that doesn’t fit amongst a selection of classic books.
Tearing the odd novel from its space, I whip my head over to the clock on the wall, checking the time.
Two more minutes.
Prying open the book, I’m close to crying out in revelation as the pages give way to a safety box. The little black device falls into the palm of my hand, and I hurry to push the book back into the case.
“Gotcha!” I grin, holding the hard drive between my fingers in victory.
Harry’s head whips up. “Great. Now we get out of this place before they notice anything’s wrong.”
I nod and push the small stick into my cleavage, which attracts a rather unpleasant eye roll from him. But I don’t let his pettiness dull my spirits.
“We work well as a team, y’know.” I bump his shoulder as we walk towards the door.
“Don’t get used to it.”
Harry reaches out for the doorknob, and I immediately grab his wrist to stop him. Confused, he attempts to yank it out of my grip, but I press my nails into his skin in silent warning.
The lock is turning.
Someone is about to enter.
Fuck!
This wasn’t part of the plan!
When they catch us, I don’t doubt they’ll want to execute us on the spot .
Keeping a death grip on the inside of Harry’s wrist, I back away from the door with both our hands raised in caution as if it might explode.
“What do we do, Harry?” I whisper, terror evident in my voice.
He’s silent for a beat.
“Kiss me.”
I turn to him so fast I almost give myself whiplash.
“I—”
No. No. No.
While my emotions may be haywire, this is a certainty I can’t change.
I can’t kiss Harry – it’ll kill me.
I need more time.
More time to prepare for what will happen when my restraint wavers and I feel his mouth on mine again.
I don’t know if it’ll be good for me. For him. For us—
I can’t—
“I can’t kiss you.”
“Gigi!” Harry warns, glancing to the door in fear.
“It’ll ruin me.”
“Then don’t let it.”
“I won’t be able to help it!” I shout.
But there’s no time.
By the time the door opens Harry has already captured my wrist, pulled me forwards, and slammed his lips against mine with urgency.
We stumble back against the wall, and he kisses me desperately, sucking the air from my lungs. Harry threads his fingers through my hair, arching my head backwards to kiss me hungrily. His other hand travels up my exposed thigh, igniting a trail of goose bumps in its path. He kneads the skin between his fingers. The action makes my mouth part and draws a warm line in the depths of my stomach .
I don’t know what to think. Don’t know what to feel. Don’t want to do anything other than kiss him harder and let him ravage me.
Harry deepens the kiss, grabbing fistfuls of my hair and pushing his tongue deeper between my parted lips. I let him in like clockwork, running my tongue up the length of his, savouring his taste.
The hunger is deadly, and we kiss like starving animals.
It’s only then I remember we’re in a life-or-death situation.
But I’d be happy to die right now. Right at this moment. The thought makes me lift my thigh a little higher and tug on his hair a little harsher.
A cough sounds.
I’m reluctant to pull away, knowing my time with him is limited, and scared of the emotions that will impale us at what we’ve just done.
Another cough, and we finally separate from each other.
Breathless and struck for air, our eyes meet in a lusty haze. Harry’s lips look plump, and his tie is askew from our fumbling, and the sight of him so dishevelled takes my breath away. My heart feels like it’s beating too fast to keep me afloat, and I’m convinced he can feel it with how tightly his body is pressed to mine.
“You two. Out!”
Harry’s hands drop from my body. Watching the moment the lust drains from his eyes, I immediately notice the oh-so-familiar look that returns.
Regret.
He hesitates, something washing across his face that looks like he’s done something unthinkable. I wince.
Blinking once, twice, he storms past me and exits the office. The security guard watches with disdain as I stand riddled with my emotions. Finally coming to my senses, I smile apologetically and slip underneath his arm to chase Harry down the hall, running to keep up with his long strides.
He barely spares me a glance .
“Where’s the exit?” he asks, his voice chillingly low.
It takes me a minute to catch my breath, but I nod to one of the hallways. “Cellar. Second door on the left.”
He nods.
During our awkward silence I ponder over what just happened. Harry’s idea was clever – I’ll give him credit for that. From their perspective, we were just a couple of horny strangers who found ourselves in an unoccupied room struggling to keep our hands to ourselves. Hardly the villains.
I spare him a glance, but his walls are up, barricading his emotions. Yet the telling look on his face is proof our interaction derailed him. Something akin to hurt floods my body, but I push the feeling down as quickly as it arises.
What’s happening to me?
I used to beg that he’d hate me for my insanity – it’d make things far simpler. But there’s no begging now. It’s as clear as day. Harry hates me. I can walk around now without the guilt dragging me back that he still harbours love for me.
I push the part of myself to the surface that I’ve grown accustomed to. The version of myself that has become naturally cold-hearted towards others. I feel better – safer – like this, when people can’t see underneath.
I shouldn’t be the girl who gets punctured by a man’s presence anymore – especially Harry’s.
“Good acting.”
He finally turns to me, distracted. “Hmm?”
“The kiss.”
“Oh … yeah.”
Awkward.
We head in silence to where we expect the getaway vehicle should be waiting, ready to escort us to safety undetected. Thankfully, this time no waitresses interrupt our pursuit by offering us champagne. Yet the more I think about it, I could benefit from a drink.
I nod in the direction we should head in. “That way.”
Harry doesn’t bother acknowledging my comment. He’s supposed to be my lookout, but I don’t even try to ask him, the likelihood someone will catch us this deep into the building being small. I sigh and pull out one of my bobby pins to pick the lock. It only takes a little bit of manoeuvring before I hear the angelic sound of the lock flipping. I open the door, and Harry pushes past me before I even have a second to think about stepping through.
We trudge down the steps in silence. The only sound echoing around us is that from the lone droplets of water seeping through the concrete ceiling.
“Harry. I think we—”
“Just save it.”
“But I think—”
He throws a warning look over his shoulder. “Drop it!”
I sigh, defeated.
We finally reach the ground floor, and a chill races up my spine. I rub at my bare arms as I inhale the air around us, the scent of a wet sewer making me immediately gag.
Oh God, what is that smell?
Perhaps something has rotted … yet instinct warns me otherwise.
“Where’s the door?” Harry asks.
The cellar’s stone ceiling is low. The room is undecorated. Stone floors. Stone walls. Directly in front of us is a large pile of wooden crates printed with skull symbols. A tiny window on the far wall hangs above a lone single bed. A pair of handcuffs, one cuff clipped to the bed frame and the other hanging free, makes my blood run cold. Sparse light from a flickering bulb overhead emphasises the dirty bedding.
I turn, looking around us. “I … I don’t know.”
Suddenly, a loud clatter rings out.
The steps we just descended are now concealed by a black iron gate.
We’re trapped!